


those eyes, they get me every time

by chasingjupiter



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, M/M, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Humor, background soonhan, but also he has a tremendous crush, essentially jihoon is horny, jeonghoon besties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingjupiter/pseuds/chasingjupiter
Summary: “I really don’t understand how you can talk so crudely here and then turn into a blushing virgin the moment he appears. And look, Joshua’s completely fucking clueless. You know why I have to intervene, right?”Jihoon scrunched up his face. “I’d still rather you not.”Jeonghan tapped his cheek with a crooked grin. “Well, we can’t all get what we want, hm? Hey, you lost, you have to clean up.” He nudged the Battleship board toward Jihoon and stood up. “Shua will be back in about ten minutes. I suggest you prepare yourself so you can go back to being a coward.”“Fuck you,” Jihoon said under his breath, dismantling the game petulantly.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 72
Collections: Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: 2 Rare 2 Pair





	those eyes, they get me every time

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SVTRarePairFest2](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SVTRarePairFest2) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Jihoon tries to subtly hint to Joshua that he would like to get railed by him. Joshua has this image of Jihoon that doesn't exactly jive with that, so he is oblivious. At least, he's oblivious at first.
> 
> Jeonghan definitely knows what's up, because of course he does.
> 
> \+ Jihoon wearing Shua's bracelet bc his most recent selfie on weverse where he's showing off his hand gave me BRAIN WORMS, Possessiveness In Reverse, joshua/jihoon gym rat jock/music buddies
> 
> ++ If you want to include Jeonghan in the shenanigans be my guest I also have Jihoon/Jeonghan brain worms
> 
> \--  
> title from fred astaire - jukebox the ghost  
> dear prompter i apologize since it goes off from the prompt quite a bit.. i hope u can enjoy it nevertheless :')  
> many many thanks to [ onlytwocaptains ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlytwocaptains) for beta-ing for me <3 u r the best and i appreciate u so much!!! thank you to the fest mods as well for a great experience :))

“I literally hate you.” Jihoon fumed as he stomped into Jeonghan’s apartment. He did not, in fact, hate Jeonghan, but the unrelenting teasing in public settings was getting on his nerves, and he had come to make that known. As most plans do, however, it quickly fell down the drain.

Joshua, the cause of Jeonghan’s merciless teasing, looked up from his laptop in interest. “Why, what’d Jeonghan do this time?” He was lying stomach-down on the secondhand sofa he and Jeonghan had adopted during the move-in last year. It had some questionable stains but for the most part did its job, and hosted many a impromptu movie night. 

Movie nights were both the bane of Jihoon’s existence and his only source of joy during stressful weeks, which were frequent. The latter because it allowed him three hours of undisturbed staring at Joshua, and the former because this precisely supplied Jeonghan with mischief fuel. Speaking of, to answer Joshua’s question, this time Jeonghan had crossed the line: he had blatantly cracked a joke about it right before Joshua. Thankfully, he had been blissfully oblivious, but if Yoon Jeonghan would get his way, Joshua would no longer be in the dark by the end of the week. And Jihoon simply would not allow Jeonghan to get his way this time.

“Oh—hi.” He turned his attention back to Joshua, who was awaiting an answer. “Is Jeonghan here?”

Joshua shook his head. “Sorry, he’s out with Seokmin. Let me guess, he did something bastardous and unforgivable and now he’s hiding from your wrath until it simmers down.”

“It’s not gonna simmer down,” Jihoon seethed. “Whatever. I’ll catch him. Eventually.” His anger temporarily appeased, he sighed and moved to sit down beside the other. “What’re you working on?”

Joshua groaned, running a cursory hand through his hair. The dark strands flew up and settled down airily, drawing Jihoon’s gaze as Joshua complained about how his professor was dumping readings and responses on them far too liberally. 

“Cool,” Jihoon said uncoolly, not really understanding the tangent the senior had launched on, something about how much he hated the unit on omitted variable bias or something along those lines. Jihoon, having chosen to pursue music production instead of the fucked-up economics stuff Joshua did, had long since given up on trying to understand the content of his rants. “Um, so, since I’m here, do you want to hear the arrangement I just finished? You know, the one we couldn’t straighten out last time?”

Joshua perked up. “You finished it?” Slapping his laptop closed and shimmying around to curl up beside Jihoon and rest his chin on Jihoon’s shoulder, he chirped, “Let’s hear it! Ah, I’m so excited!”

Jihoon, tense from trying to not jostle his shoulder too much but also not make it as stiff as a brick, struggled to fish his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up the video he’d saved, letting it play with some apprehension. The two minutes were painful, his analyzing brain worrying from the first second to the last, but as soon as the audio died away and he was left grimacing, Joshua sat up straight, an incredulous expression having developed.

“Are you even real? Man, that’s incredible, how do you do it?” He clutched Jihoon’s shoulder, swaying back and forth forcefully as he hummed the chorus. “God, that’s so catchy. Has anyone else heard it yet? Is it for us?” He let go of the shoulder and dramatically fell into Jihoon’s lap, his hands clasped over his heart. “It’s just so freaking good!”

“I—um—no, you’re the first to hear it,” Jihoon stammered. “And yes, of course it’s for you. All, I mean. Us.” It was difficult, to say the least, to focus on coherent sentences while Joshua Hong’s head was in his lap, and Jihoon was a weak, weak man. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m swooning, Jihoon.” Joshua smiled up at him. “Jeonghan’s gonna be so jealous that I got to hear it first.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “He deserves to suffer.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Joshua agreed, shoving Jihoon’s chest in laughter. “I’ll lord it over him forever.”

  
  


Two days later, Jihoon finally succeeded in tracking Jeonghan down. He’d double-checked his class schedule with Joshua and resolved to wait outside his lecture hall so he could unleash his fury. Unfortunately, two full days without being with his friend had made him miss the older, sort of. That motherfucker. Too annoying for good humor to last, yet too dear for rancor to persist. 

When Jeonghan emerged from the building, nonchalantly flipping through a packet of papers, he didn’t seem surprised by Jihoon’s presence. “Hello there,” he said breezily, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

“I still hate you,” Jihoon told him passively. “I really do.”

“Sure, baby Jihoonie,” he acquiesced, reaching out to ruffle Jihoon’s hair. “You’re so cute when you’re pretending to be mad at me.”

Upon hearing the curious whispers of other students passing them, he wrinkled his nose but otherwise didn’t push the other away. Business majors were too nosy for their own good; he swore he heard one of them mumble “So Jeonghan and that kid?” It only made him cling to Jeonghan more. He insisted, “Not pretending,” knowing perfectly well it was futile.

Jeonghan laughed lightly. “Okay then, what can I help you with?”

They set off across campus to the senior’s apartment at a leisurely pace, both free of classes for the day. Though left unsaid, Jihoon figured they both knew what was going to happen: Joshua would offer to make them mac ‘n cheese, and they would loiter in the kitchen until Joshua realized he had to run to class. Then they would relocate to the living room (read: sofa and the surrounding twenty square feet) with the mac ‘n cheese, and Jihoon would vent to Jeonghan while playing Battleship.

That was exactly what happened. 

Jeonghan was criminally good at Battleship. Maybe because he really tried hard to win every time. Maybe he had good intuition for where Jihoon put his ships. Either way, Jihoon was getting obliterated, though it only increased the passion of his venting.

“God, I’m so tired of it all,” he bemoaned. “You know I get fucking horny before quizzes. And he just happened to pop over and offer to help me review—I think I might’ve failed.”

Jeonghan looked down at his board. “D-3.”

“Hit, fuck.”

“By the way, this might not be a good time to mention it but I sent Shua over that day.”

Jihoon told him, calmly, “I’m going to hit  _ you _ . J-4.”

“Miss,” Jeonghan said. “C’mon, you’re too subtle about it. And you know Shua’s dense as hell. Even if you told him straight-up that you were horny he’d probably say ‘Oh, okay,’ and leave you alone with your hand.”

Jihoon tossed a peg at the other. “I’m not going to tell him I’m horny to his face,” he said, scandalized. “Like, yeah, I want him to fuck me seven ways to Sunday, but I’m not gonna say it. Isn’t that, like, sexual harassment?”

“Maybe borderline,” he shrugged. “Are you willing to risk coming off as creepy—which you are—to get your dick wet? Or I guess your butt? D-2.”

“Fuck you,” Jihoon retorted. “Fucking hit. And no. As much as I want him to fuck me until I can’t walk, I don’t want to permanently scar him. Hey, wait a minute, you’ve seen his dick before, right? It’s big, right? I feel like he’d be hung.”

Jeonghan made a face. “Ew, don’t be vulgar.”

“I bet Joshua has the world’s most massive dick. It’s probably so big it won’t even fit in me. Like the kind of monster cock you see in porn. I bet—”

“Screw you,” Jeonghan yelled, throwing a peg back at Jihoon. “You dare play Battleship with  _ me _ , under  _ my  _ roof—”

“Is his dick big?” Jihoon repeated, grin growing.

“Yes, God damn it!” Jeonghan huffed a breath. “D-1. Yes, his dick is above average. Please stop asking me questions about his dick. I feel faint.”

“Ah, you sunk my battleship,” he said in a funny, high-pitched voice. The game over, he threw himself onto the floor, starfishing. “I fucking knew it. Someone that built can’t have a small dick—”

Jeonghan interrupted, “I really don’t understand how you can talk so crudely here and then turn into a blushing virgin the moment he appears. I’m on your side, Jihoon—” he glared at the younger when he scoffed, “—but you’re seriously so gross sometimes.”

“Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “As if you didn’t wax poetic about Soonyoung when you guys hooked up. Think of this as retribution.”

Jeonghan reached over to jab him lightly in the side. “At least I’m consistent and said it to his face too. Soonyoung likes being praised.”

“Did not need to know about his praise kink,” Jihoon gagged.

“But look at you,” he continued. “Joshua’s completely fucking clueless. You know why I have to intervene, right?”

He scrunched up his face. “I’d still rather you not.”

Jeonghan tapped his cheek with a crooked grin. “Well, we can’t all get what we want, hm? Hey, you lost, you have to clean up.” He nudged the board toward Jihoon and stood up. “Shua will be back in about ten minutes. I suggest you prepare yourself so you can go back to being a coward.”

“Fuck you,” Jihoon said under his breath, dismantling the Battleship game petulantly.

  
  


On Saturdays, their little vocal group met up at Jihoon’s usual studio to mess around. They usually didn’t record anything seriously, but all five of them enjoyed bothering Jihoon at work like little kids, so every week without fail they showed up. What at first was a casual, stand-alone jam session became a weekly get-together. So Jihoon had started writing songs for them to sing, not just for himself, and their group grew into a solid circle of friends. Their very close friendships did not stop them from fooling around; in fact, it only enabled them and their incessant bickering.

“Seungkwan, you’re late!” Jeonghan called out joyously.

“Again!” tacked on Joshua gleefully. 

Seungkwan shot them twin annoyed looks. “I’m one minute late, leave me alone.”

“But being one minute late every week makes for so much wasted time,” Jeonghan reasoned. “If you had any conscience, you’d make it up to your seniors.”

Though Jihoon smiled in amusement, he waved them off. “Come on, he’s doing his best. I swear you do this every week.”

“Thank you, Jihoon,” Seungkwan said exaggeratedly. “You guys have no shame, but thankfully I have Jihoon to save me.”

Seokmin laughed. “He probably just pities you, to be honest.”

“Not you too!”

“Anyway,” Jihoon said loudly, to get their attention, “I have a new song for us, so today we’re going to listen and sight-sing, yeah?”

His announcement sent them into a flurry of excitement, speculating what the song would sound like. Joshua, however, crossed his legs and looked extremely complacent. Jihoon sent him a half-hearted glare, though its effects were completely overridden by a tiny amused smile. In response, Joshua stuck his tongue out.

With the three others still chatting animatedly, Joshua stood up and declared, “Okay, be quiet now, everyone. You’re going to want to hear it without all of your blabbing because this one is literally flawless.”

Instead of the intended effect, or perhaps happening exactly as he intended, they erupted in noise. “Joshua heard it already?!” Seungkwan wailed, clutching Seokmin’s arm, the owner of which shaking his head in disappointment. Jeonghan turned to look at Joshua in betrayal, and then to Jihoon.

“Jihoon’s favoritism is too obvious,” he drawled, and while Joshua preened, unaware, Jihoon bristled, feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck. So maybe he wanted the muse to be the first listener. Sue him.

He cleared his throat. “So, um, everyone be quiet and listen.” Quickly, they simmered down and let Jihoon play the demo, indignation melting into subdued awe. Glancing at the eldest, he was surprised to meet eyes with Jeonghan, whose expression had softened into an understanding affection. He smiled warmly, and Jihoon shrank into his chair, feeling terribly happy, and this feeling was only bolstered by the sight of Joshua swaying back and forth with his eyes closed, a purely content smile playing at his lips. Beside him, Seokmin holding his cheeks, his mouth wide open, and Seungkwan lightly bopping his head.

Satisfied with their responses, Jihoon let his eyes close and the music take over his senses, and as his own voice painted his longing for Joshua into words, he marveled at how life let him have this little miracle all to himself.

They spent the next two hours dividing up parts and running through the song, and by the end of their rehearsal Jihoon felt exhausted but happy. Happy to be showered in Joshua’s praises, and happy to be singing with his best friends. However happy he felt, though, this did not distract him from the inevitable.

“Oh Joshua, your branch-like limbs shade me from the sun,” Jeonghan teased in terrible parody of his lyrics. “You make me all warm and light, don’t be sad or I will fight.”

“Don’t defile my lyrics like that,” Jihoon scowled.

Jeonghan sprawled out on Jihoon’s dorm-issued twin-sized bed. “I was preparing to sing horny songs for the rest of the semester,” he said. “And however gross it is to be singing a love song and knowing the words are about Joshua, I’m infinitely grateful for the fact that it’s a soft cheesy song and not thirsty.”

“Show your God damn gratitude, then,” Jihoon huffed, focused on the email he was drafting.

“I’m not giving you a blowjob, sorry baby,” he said. When Jihoon only cringed without looking at him, he continued, “But seriously, I was expecting something like ‘I am going feral for you, Joshua, please breathe on me.’”

Jihoon’s lips curdled into a grimace. “I am not going feral,” he protested weakly.

Jeonghan hummed in clear disbelief.

“Really. I just maybe want to be his boyfriend and then have mindblowing sex with him. I guess I’m not too picky with the order.”

It was Jeonghan’s turn to grimace. “What do you even see in him?” he asked, suddenly curious. “Like, yeah, he’s pretty and nice sometimes, but why do you want him to rail you so bad and not the other way around?”

Jihoon sighed and stopped typing. “Jeonghan. Have you seen his arms. They’re monstrous. In sophomore year I went to the gym with him, remember, and he’s fucking packed. I see a set of rock-hard abs and immediately want to get fucked.”

The other rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, it’s not half bad.”

Jihoon sat back in his chair, abandoning the half-written email and surrendering to thoughts of Joshua. “His veins are seriously hot… And the way he handles things so gently but could probably crush anything in his hand, that’s also hot. And, God, his eyes. They just shine so softly. I would give anything to fuck him, too, but the other way around is just too tempting.”

Jeonghan groaned. “You’re in so deep, Hoonie. Why don’t you just ask him out on a date?”

“I’ve thought about it,” he confessed. “But I guess it would be awkward if he really didn’t want to. Like he seems to flirt back, sometimes? But I think he’s always like that, with everyone. Flirty, I mean.”

“He is sure as hell not flirty with me,” Jeonghan said matter-of-factly, “and if he’s passing up on flirting with me, and you think he’s flirting with you, I’m willing to bet he has a thing for you, too. All you have to do is make it a little clearer than  _ you’re  _ flirting with him, and it’ll all fall into place.”

Jihoon turned to study his face. “You’re not lying?” he asked hopefully.

“Nah,” he dismissed. “I wouldn’t do that to my favorite little junior, would I?” 

  
  


“I had a feeling you’d be here.” Jihoon announced his presence with a lazy drawl, making Joshua set down his water bottle and swipe at his mouth with the back of his hand. Jihoon’s eyes followed the stray water droplets from Joshua’s lips to his knuckles.

The older chuckled. “You know me too well.” He was sitting on the bench beside the chest press machine, evidently taking a short break in between sets. “Were you looking for me, or did you just follow a whim?”

He shrugged. “A little of both?”

To be honest, he’d just wanted to see Joshua, and the gym wasn’t too far off from his dorm building. So he’d left his music history readings sitting forlornly on his desk and instead jogged over here.

“Well, I sure am glad to see you,” Joshua declared. “I have one more set to do, and cool-downs, but after that do you wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Are you treating?” he inquired playfully, quirking an eyebrow.

“Look at this parasite,” he scoffed, standing up and ruffling Jihoon’s brown hair. 

He wrinkled his nose. “Is that a yes?”

Joshua sighed. “Alright, alright, I’ll pay for today, little rascal,” he acquiesced, not looking upset.

Jihoon cheered quietly. He would pay next time, he vowed silently, as he watched Joshua sit back down at the machine and adjusted the weights.

It’d been a long time since he last came to work out with Joshua. He still had quick sessions when he could sneak them in, but it often just wasn’t convenient to schedule one together. And that explained why, all of sudden, the real bulk of Joshua’s figure sent a shiver down Jihoon’s spine, but it certainly did not explain why he kept feeling frozen even after the initial shock wore off.

Joshua’s movements were precise and controlled, the flexing and relaxing of his arms drawing Jihoon’s gaze, which only intensified as he registered the thin sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. He could hear the controlled inhales and exhales as he worked at the weight, its almost mechanical pace sending a buzzing rhythm to swarm his brain.

Jihoon had been counting out of habit, the rhythm of lift and relax pulsing through his head, but as Joshua pressed his lips together for the last stretch, the numbers rebelled, swarming into incoherent thoughts:  _ why is he so attractive, why can’t I stop looking at him, why of all people just the one?  _ All questions he knew the answers to.

“Whew!” The subject of Jihoon’s questions let the handles fall back into place. “And now cool-downs. Wanna join?” At his hesitant expression Joshua added, “Ten minutes max, don’t worry. And it’s mostly just stretches, anyway.”

“Alright,” he acquiesced.

And so Joshua led him in his cool-down routine, guiding Jihoon with each murmur introducing the next exercise. Joshua his anchoring downbeat, Jihoon following in two twin upbeats. A waltz, a strange waltz of sorts, but a dance nonetheless. That was how they tended to operate: Joshua at his leisurely amble, Jihoon trotting behind, happy to chase after an extended hand. Neither being left behind nor surging forward. Both at their own tempos, but still moving in tandem. 

Post-workout, they departed from the gym walking side-by-side. Joshua had claimed the right to pick where they went since he was paying, and Jihoon had accepted it without protest. So when they found themselves in front of  _ Jihoon’s  _ favorite burger joint, he wordlessly turned to Joshua and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“I was craving burgers,” he answered, shrugging. 

That was likely enough. Still, Jihoon couldn’t help thinking that maybe it had been an intentional choice. Something that lulled him into that pink haze of  _ I like you, I like you, I like you.  _ The pink haze permeated Jihoon’s insides as he followed Joshua inside, absently keeping up with the conversation—something about his classes, again, he surmised—but eyes drilling into the span of Joshua’s shoulders. 

They were seated in a booth and thus sat opposite each other, fiddling with the one-page menu and the salt shakers. My game theory class is super fun, Joshua was saying, you should take it if you have a chance. I don’t think I’m smart enough for that, he replied. Nonsense, Joshua shot back, you can do anything you want to do. That’s what I like about you.

Jihoon jolted to consciousness. “Huh?”

Joshua leaned across the table. “You are the most hard-working person I know,” he insisted, sticking his finger out as if it made his point more convincing. “Anything you put your mind to, you get done. Sometimes right away, sometimes over the course of time. No matter what it is, though, you finish it, and you do your best with it.” He sat back, satisfied, the shining look in his eyes practically challenging Jihoon to respond.

“W-Well, of course, if I have to do it, I might as well do it,” he stammered, both flattered and embarrassed. “I mean, you work hard too. You always keep yourself on track and push yourself to new heights.”

“Me? I’m nothing compared to you, Jihoonie,” he smiled.

Jihoon sat up straight. “Don’t lie,” he countered. “You’re really a hard worker and perfectionist, Shua, really. And it shows—everyone can see how you shine. You really shine. Whatever you’re doing, wherever you are. You shine.”

Joshua looked taken aback but quickly recovered. “That’s nice of you to say,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Um. You’re welcome.” Jihoon returned, a little abashed by his own outburst. 

Twenty minutes later, both with burgers and tall glasses of water, Jihoon felt like mentally slapping himself. Or physically. That worked too.

To be specific, he wanted to slap his eyes, which kept flicking down to Joshua’s arms. He felt like a teenager beside a magazine rack, eyes always drawn back to the vibrant headlines and glossy photos. It wasn’t fair. Joshua was wearing a black t-shirt, which perfectly showcased the heft of his arm muscle. His skin was tanned and smooth, warm and inviting. It would be so easy to just reach over and touch. Let his fingers tiptoe over the ridges of muscle, circle around the elbow. 

He was trying to uphold his end of their discussion on which fruits their friends would be, and though it didn’t exactly require all of his focus, he was having trouble keeping up with the pace. He kept responding half a beat late, forcibly tugging his eyes up or back with a poorly veiled jerk of the chin. It was difficult to even finish his burger. It was always sinking down between his hands, and he had to fumble to secure it again, then take a bite. He loved the burger, really, but when there was something even more tempting in sight, it was challenging to savor its taste.

“I’m telling you, Seungkwan is a cantaloupe,” Joshua insisted fervently. “He’s round and cute and sweet but can betray you without warning.”

“How does a cantaloupe betray you?” Jihoon wondered out loud.

Joshua let out a long-suffering sigh. “Jihoon, there is no pain like the one experienced when you take an anticipating bite of that pretty orange melon and suddenly bitterness floods your mouth and you splutter and spit it out but you’re just left with this gross flat taste.”

“That has never happened to me.”

He sighed again. “I envy you.”

“Okay, I’ll let Seungkwan be a cantaloupe just for your trauma,” Jihoon allowed. “But I’m not budging on Jun as a pomegranate.”

“I suppose I’ll permit that.” Joshua celebrated his victory with a triumphant downing of his glass of water, and Jihoon celebrated his loss by watching Joshua’s Adam’s apple bob as he drank. Even just the view of the older’s chin tilted up, face angled as to give the best view of his jawline, was enough to make Jihoon clench his own glass, the cold against his palm anchoring him to Earth.

As the last drops of water tumbled out of the glass, Joshua set it down with a grin. Being his naturally overly competitive self, his eyes gleamed with the high of his win, and Jihoon was completely and utterly enamored.

“You’re like a peach,” he mumbled, dazed.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, curious. “Enlighten me?”

Jihoon put down the last remnants of his burger. “You’re soft on the outside and—pretty.” Joshua smirked at him from across the table, and Jihoon looked down, feeling hot and trying to convince himself that this was a purely objective analysis. “Um, you like those orange-y pink colors, and you look good in them. You have—” he coughed, “—a good figure, you have this bright and playful personality…”

“Thank you,” Joshua said smugly, flashing an award-winning smile. “Could you please elaborate more on my good figure?”

Jihoon pressed a mortified hand to his face. “No.”

  
  


Jihoon felt like a newly engaged man, and Jeonghan picked up on it scarily quickly.

So maybe he was rolling up his sleeves with an agenda that was not cooling down. In the middle of winter, he supposed there wasn’t really a good reason to always be pushing up his sleeves. He had also gotten into the habit of using his hands when he talked, flicking his wrists when possible, fixing his hair and flashing the string of beads that now adorned his wrist night and day.

Within their friend group, they rarely gave sumptuous or flashy gifts for the holidays. That didn’t change this year, and that also didn’t stop Jihoon from showing off like he’d received a 24k gold chain. Sure, it was a simple halo of black and white. But it was a halo of black and white that brought him immeasurable pride just from seeing snug around his wrist.

“Look at you and your fancy bracelet,” Jeonghan remarked by way of greeting as he barged into Jihoon’s room. 

Jihoon deliberately waved, slowly, letting his sleeve fall. “Huh? What bracelet?” Then, as if taken by surprise, he noticed the bracelet encircling his arm. “Oh, you mean this thing? Don’t be mistaken: it’s not fancy, just  _ meaningful _ .”

Jeonghan broke down into laughter, loud ha-has that made him clutch the doorframe for support. “God, look at you,” he wheezed. 

“Don’t be too jealous,” he huffed. “I understand not all of us have the same fortune.”

Jeonghan kept laughing, unbothered. “Do that again, let me record that,” he implored, struggling to open his phone to the camera.

“I’m not a show animal, Jeonghan,” Jihoon sniffed. 

“La la la, can’t hear you,” Jeonghan sing-songed. “Do it again, please, for my sanity.”

“Whatever sanity you once had has been long gone, don’t kid yourself.”

Jeonghan finally calmed himself down and shut the door behind him, inviting himself to sit on Jihoon’s roommate’s bed. “When’d you get back?” he asked, dropping the subject of the bracelet for now.

“Yesterday,” Jihoon answered. “You?”

“Literally a few hours ago,” he said. Yawning and stretching his arms out above his head, Jeonghan laid back on the usurped bed. Jihoon’s roommate kept a string of photos on the wall, and Jeonghan peered at them from below. “Your roomie’s kinda cute. What was his name again?”

Jihoon glanced at Jeonghan’s relaxed position. “Minghao, and he’ll kill you for messing up his comforter.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, patting the bedspread idly. 

“Uh-huh. Also, he has a partner already.”

Jeonghan finally sat up, giving the blanket a cursory smooth-down. “Is that an invitation to sit on your bed, then?”

“No,” Jihoon said, but he knew before Jeonghan even stood up that he would take that as permission to sprawl out on the other bed. 

“You should make your bed,” Jeonghan told him, bunching up the pillow under his chin and turning to face Jihoon. 

“I see no reason for that.”

Jeonghan giggled. “Of course  _ you  _ don’t. But I’m just saying, some people might be more uptight about that kind of thing. As a completely random example, Joshua. He makes his bed like three times a day.” When Jihoon scowled, he went on. “I’m not saying you have to be a neat freak like him, but maybe you should just think about it. How Joshua likes clean and organized things. And maintaining a semblance of a put-together life.”

“I’m plenty clean,” Jihoon scoffed. “You’re the dirtiest thing in this room.”

“Wow, that really hurts, Hoonie.”

Jihoon huffed. “Then don’t be nosy.” He looked down at his hands. Jeonghan was kind of right, though. Whenever Joshua mentioned the appearance of a handsome stranger or pretty girl, it was always something about how they had coordinated the color of their socks with their shirt, or something. Joshua liked tidy and elegant and routine. Jihoon… was not that.

As if he could sense Jihoon’s dampened mood, Jeonghan softened. “Look, you’re fine as you are now. Joshua isn’t going to dump you just because you don’t dust your shelves or something.”

He hummed reluctantly.

“Really. I mean it.”

When he didn’t receive a response, Jeonghan grumbled and tossed his hostage (pillow) at Jihoon’s head, watching it lightly bounce off his forehead and land softly on the desk.

He turned to his attacker with an irritated expression. “What was that for?!” 

Jeonghan shrugged. “Stop being mopey! I feel bad!”

“You started it!” Jihoon picked up the pillow and hugged it to his chest, eyes fixed on his hands clasped around each other. Then, pressing his mouth to the pillow as if to muffle his sound, he mumbled, “Do you really think so?”

Without hesitation, he answered “Yes.”

“Hm.” Jihoon didn’t look up from the pillow, but Jeonghan could tell by his stance that he felt relaxed again. 

“If you ever want any help with Shua, I’d be happy to help,” he offered.

“I think you’ve helped enough,” Jihoon said flatly, and like with the bed, he knew that Jeonghan would meddle regardless.

Jeonghan gasped. “You haven’t even seen me at my full potential!” he insisted. “I’ll have you know that I have a 100% success rate!”

“Success rate for what? Scamming people?”

He huffed. “Charming people with my winning personality!”

Jihoon finally looked up to stare at Jeonghan. After a moment of silence, “So scamming people.”

Jeonghan maintained his haughty air for about three seconds before giggling. “Whatever. Maybe.” Plowing ahead, he continued, “Anyway, my expertise has some generous advice for you.”

“Lay it on me,” Jihoon sighed.

“You,” Jeonghan swung a dramatic finger to point at his target, “Know, out of all people, that Joshua has picked up a new hobby.”

Unfazed, he uttered, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you should butter him up with that! Compliment his talent, beg him for more bracelets, brag about the one you have already! Though I must admit you’re doing a fine job with that last one.”

Jihoon finally smiled, a small but genuine one that just barely showed his teeth. “You mean,” he began, holding up his wrist and letting the sleeve slip down, “This bracelet I have already?”

Jeonghan clapped, falling back with laughter. “Perfect,” he cheered in between bright ha-has.

  
  


> **Instagram**
> 
> woozi_universefactory just shared a post.
> 
> [IMAGE DESCRIPTION: The camera is poised uncomfortably above a hand and a thigh bearing bright red shorts. Despite being of poor quality, the camera is focused on two bracelets, the first a string of white beads with one flower visible. The second is a string of clear beads with five yellow letters spelling out W-O-O-Z-I.]
> 
> [CAPTION: @joshuahong951230 thanks bff.]
> 
>   
>    
> 

On Thursday, Jihoon departed from his music history class with earbuds in, blasting a pop song as loud as he possibly could without suffering ear damage. That was what required history classes did to him. It didn’t help that January was sending chilling winds to freeze his entire body from outside in—he thought he might keel over from cold combined with mental exhaustion. 

So it took a few shouts for him to realize someone was calling his name. He bristled and swiveled in a circle, searching for whoever was interrupting Bruno Mars. When he noticed Joshua of all people leaning against a streetlamp, waving energetically at him, he relaxed, walking over and pulling out his earbuds. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Joshua smiled. He looked warm today, bundled up with a scarf overtop his winter coat, hands in pockets. “I was on my way to get coffee. Wanna come with?”

“Oh, yeah, coffee sounds good right now.” Jihoon looked Joshua over again and frowned. “You should tuck your scarf in, it’s really cold today and as fashionable as you look with it out, it’ll probably be more effective if you stick it in your coat.”

Joshua peered down at his scarf and sloppily stuffed it into his coat. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

He shook his head. “Just a minute,” he muttered, stepping forward and fixing the scarf so it sat more comfortably. With one last gentle tug, he straightened it out, and stepped back, feeling that his cheeks, whipped by the wind, must be a humiliating red. “Sorry. I just thought—”

“Thank you, really,” Joshua interrupted, smiling at him, the very tip of his nose a pretty pink. “You always take care of me when I’m the older one. Ah, I’m lucky to be Jihoonie’s friend!” he said cheerfully, ruffling Jihoon’s hair. 

“It’s not a matter of luck,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. “Um, shall we go?”

Joshua nodded and they set off together, joining the dwindling stream of students back to the center of campus, where the closest café was. It was a short walk, and Joshua asked him about his classes and his latest compositions. Jihoon tried to answer as best as he could, but he was constantly distracted by how Joshua left his right hand out of his pocket as if he was deliberately trying to tempt Jihoon into holding it. It didn’t help that he was terribly conscious of his two Joshua-made bracelets curled snugly around his left wrist.

His hand twitched. He grimaced, and Joshua looked down in concern. “Are you cold? Look at you, worrying over me when you should be worrying about yourself. Do you have gloves?”

Jihoon panicked. What if Joshua took his hand into his pocket? Would he be able to keep walking without melting into a Jihoon-shaped puddle right there on the sidewalk? He felt his ears burn. “Well, no,” he said awkwardly. “Um. It’s—it’s okay, though.”

“Of course it’s not okay!” he exclaimed. “You’ve got to stay warm. It’s way too easy to get sick these days, and then what would happen to you?”

Jihoon felt like he was floundering. In just a moment, Joshua would do something gentleman-ly like keeping him warm in his own pocket and he would be left to cope with the remains of his short-circuited brain. As he stared his feet down, he felt a nudge at his wrist, and he jumped.

“Here, take these. You’re lucky I brought a pair of gloves with me today.”

Jihoon, bewildered, accepted them and slid them on, wondering absently if this was a form of indirect hand-holding. Joshua slipped his hands back into his pockets, the tantalizing right hand disappearing in the brown coat. Well, there went that fantasy.

As they sidled into the main campus café, Jihoon peeled off the gloves and tentatively offered them back to Joshua, who smiled and tucked them into his pocket. “Why don't you go and sit at a table and I can order something for us?”

“No, why don't you sit down and I order? I believe it's my turn to pay.”

Joshua raised his eyebrows but didn't argue. “Well, I'll gratefully accept your treat, gracious Jihoon,” he chirped. 

After a few minutes, Jihoon followed the older to the small round table he had picked out, though it wasn’t like he had much of a choice, considering the many other students populating the café. He balanced two steaming cups of coffee and a small plate bearing a large cupcake on the tray, which he carefully set down before Joshua with a quiet clack. The other looked up and smiled, prettily, and Jihoon flushed. It was quite warm in here. He pulled at his collar, a little flustered by the realization that this was very much like an impromptu date.

“Aw, you got a cupcake for us!” Joshua noticed happily, clearly appreciative of Jihoon’s tact.

“Oh, I got it for you,” Jihoon said. “You said yesterday that you were craving sweets, so.”

Joshua tilted his head and scrunched up his face cutely, his lips sticking out just a little in a pout. “You treat me too well, Jihoonie, I’m being totally spoiled.”

_ Yeah, well, I like spoiling you.  _ “If this is being spoiled, you must live a totally bleak life.”

He chuckled and reached across the table to pat his cheek. “Ah, you’re funny. I’ll treat you to something good next time, promise.” While Jihoon stewed in heat, Joshua took a sip of his coffee and let out a pleased sigh. “My favorite. I think I can feel it resuscitating my brain,” he laughed.

Jihoon smiled. “Good to know that I didn’t screw up your order.”

“Oh, it’s only one—oops, two—substitutions,” Joshua shook his head in teasing disappointment. “And they are absolutely essential, by the way.”

“I’m very sorry for offending you, Mr. Lactose Intolerant.”

Joshua humphed. “I just don’t understand how you aren’t lactose intolerant. I swear every single Asian person I know is somewhat lactose intolerant.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either, but I am one hundred percent not complaining.” Jihoon lifted his cup, grasping the handle with relaxed fingers. As he raised it to his lips, his sleeve slipped down, revealing his milky wrist, and Joshua’s gaze followed the motion.

“You’re wearing my bracelets,” he commented, sounding satisfied.

Jihoon sipped his coffee, fanning his mouth with his other hand and looking at his prides and joys. “I never take them off,” he admitted.

“Oh? Do I have a happy customer here? Could I get a five star review, please?” Joshua joked.

Hearing Jeonghan’s voice murmuring  _ compliment his talent, beg him for more bracelets, brag about the one you have already _ , Jihoon, jittery, ran through all of his options. Should he lay on the compliments? Act coy? 

“I… Yes.” He coughed. “I mean, I love them, you did a great job. They mean a lot to me.”

“Oh.” He looked a little surprised, probably having expected a sarcastic reply. Then he softened, eyes crinkling into a warm smile. “Thank you. I made them special for you, so I’m really glad you like them.”

“Of course,” Jihoon shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. “Anything made by Joshua Hong is precious to me.”

He giggled. “You flatter me.”

“Will it get me more bracelets?”

Joshua leaned across the table as if he were sharing a secret. “Don’t tell the others, but I’ll make you as many bracelets as you want, whenever you ask.”

“Ooh, do I get to skip the line?” he asked playfully.

“Why, that’s a given for my dear Jihoon,” he said, nose scrunching up in delight.

_ My Jihoon.  _ “Ah—yes, um, thanks. I’m honored to be the subject of such, uh, blatant favoritism, as our friends would put it.”

“If I would be so bold, I would say that I am also the subject of favoritism from you, no?” Joshua said, a sharp glint in his eye which both terrified and turned on Jihoon.

“I’m afraid I cannot confirm nor deny these claims,” he said. 

His friend sat back in his seat and winked, so fast that Jihoon might’ve missed it had he blinked. “Don’t worry, Jihoon, I can keep a secret.”

Jihoon gulped. This felt an awful lot like flirting. And he found himself enjoying it—the easy banter, the coquettish smiles. Was Joshua intentionally flirting with him, or was this just how good friends got along? Did platonic friends usually wink in such an attractive manner? 

He took a sip of his latte. “Well, keep this one then: I’d like to place an order for a bracelet.”

“Oh? Any reason why we’re keeping this one secretive?”

He took a slow breath to brace himself. “I would actually like a pair of bracelets. Kind of matching, you know?”

Joshua perked up. “Ooh, like couple bracelets?” He narrowed his eyes, lips pursing. “Are you perhaps having an illicit affair?”

Jihoon squirmed under the weight of Joshua’s piercing gaze, even if it was mostly joking. “Not an affair,” he clarified. “But, um, yes. Couple-y.”

“Ah, I see,” Joshua said nonchalantly. He drank from his cup slowly, setting it down very, very carefully, and Jihoon was surprised to see that the vivacious sparkle in his eye had dimmed. “May I have some details about this mystery couple? For example, hm, initials? Important symbols?”

Jihoon chewed on his bottom lip. If he gave away too much, he was totally screwed. If he didn’t give enough, he was overtly suspicious. “The colors… They should be like light orange-pink.”

“You got it,” Joshua said, and suddenly he grinned, the twinkle returning to his smiling eyes. “So, a peach-like theme?”

Jihoon fought hard to keep a neutral expression. “Yep. Peach.”

“On it, boss.”

  
  


> **Instagram**
> 
> woozi_universefactory just shared a post.
> 
> [IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A blurry shot of a glittering bracelet. The room’s lighting is purple and dapples over the beads, making the color difficult to discern, but there are two silver beads gleaming more brilliantly, spaced a bead apart.]
> 
> [CAPTION: maybe soon?]
> 
>   
>    
> 

“I took a screenshot of your Instagram post.”

Jihoon bristles from his spot on the floor. “Why would you do that?!”

Jeonghan smiled. “So I have evidence of your sappy intent to confess? Why else?”

“Confess? Who said anything about confessing?” Jihoon said, playing dumb. God, it was so hard to keep up with Jeonghan. The man knew too much, nosed his way into everything, and, worst of all, had a huge influence on Jihoon. 

“If you recall, silly, I suggested this.”

Jihoon lightly banged his head on the floor. How could he have forgotten… Honestly, Jeonghan was probably behind ninety percent of his life decisions. “Right. Please delete that screenshot.”

“Like how you deleted your post forty seconds after uploading? I don’t think so,” he replied smoothly.

Jihoon groaned. “I couldn’t leave it up, it was too obvious.”

“That’s kind of the point of a confession,” Jeonghan told him. “You know. Making the whole ‘I have a heart boner for you please date me’ thing obvious. By the way, Joshua has been so sulky recently. What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” Literally nothing. So maybe he’d been slightly avoiding him. Not in a sneaky dramatic way, just… not visiting or calling every day. He just couldn’t bear meeting his eyes and keeping his freaking mouth shut.

Jeonghan shifted on the couch. “Uh huh. So you haven’t been avoiding him or anything?”

What the hell! Could Jeonghan read minds or something?

“No, I can’t read minds,” Jeonghan said.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jihoon gaped, scrambling to sit up. “You can! What the shit.”

Jeonghan collapsed in wheezing laughter. “Oh God, you should’ve seen your face. Don’t worry about it, Jihoonie, I just know you too well. If I could read minds, this campus would be in total chaos and you’d know it.”

“True,” Jihoon admitted. Then he added, “But fuck you! I haven’t been avoiding him!”

Jeonghan didn’t even bother responding, just shot him a skeptical look.

“I haven’t!”

Jeonghan sighed loudly, repositioning the laptop on his thighs. “One last Joshua-related thing, and then I’ll shut up and do my work.”

“Yes?”

“Wear your fucking bracelet around or I’m never deleting the screenshot, and you can count on me rubbing it in your face all the time.”

Jihoon rubbed his temples. “Can you shut up and do your work now?”

  
  


Like most of his compositions, “Come to me” had begun with a humble piano melody. Just his right hand wandering over the keys, left hand occasionally jumping up to add a layer of harmony and guide the tune. This was not hidden information whatsoever, but somehow few people knew that he always kept the original saved in his hard drive.

However, Joshua happened to be one of these few people. Joshua also happened to be in his studio, lounging on the small sofa and tipping back the last few drops from a water bottle.

Jihoon had the LED lights set to a lucid lavender, washing the cube of a room in purple light. As he spinned idly in his desk chair, watching Joshua’s figure blur after seven turns, he hummed the chorus to “Come with me,” reminiscing about how utterly triumphant Joshua had been after hearing its maiden showcase. How lucky he was, he thought, to be a part of something like this. To do the work he loved, spend time with the people he loved, be hyped up by those people.

Joshua suddenly sat up, and Jihoon halted abruptly mid-spin, feeling dizziness surge over him in one towering wave. “Huh?” he choked out, sounding garbled from the instant of nausea.

“Can you play the piano version for me?” he asked earnestly, shoulders leaning over his knees, his sincerity almost tangible.

“...Huh?”

Joshua shook his head. “I mean, could you play the piano version of ‘Come to me’ for me?”

“Oh, um, sure,” Jihoon said. “But where is this coming from, exactly?”

“It’s just such a sweet song, it must sound so lovely on the piano too.” Joshua said, somewhat evasively.

“Okay,” he acquiesced, spinning over to face his keyboard. He ran up and down two octaves in a quick scale, relishing the easy press of the keys, even if they were cold to the touch. “Haven’t played it in awhile, so it might be a little off.”

“That’s no problem,” Joshua said, peeling himself off the sofa to inch closer to Jihoon, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

He wrangled out the chords first, and then slipped naturally into the opening bars. The tempo was slower than the mixed song, but it suited the flow of his fingers, and Joshua fell into a gentle sway as the notes fell into place. Though tentative at first, by the first chorus Jihoon had a relaxed rhythm, toying with the chords to make the tune a little more longing, more tender. Though it didn’t quite suit the lyrics or the vibe he had originally envisioned, this version felt much more intimate. Maybe it was because Joshua was sat beside him, eyes closed and humming along softly.

Just before the second chorus, Joshua’s distant, under-the-breath hums coalesced into words. “My sadness melts,” he sing-whispered, and Jihoon snuck a glance down at him, admiring the soft ashy brown tousle of his hair, and his eyelashes prettily fanned out above his cheeks. He kept glancing down throughout the song to catch fleeting moments of unadulterated joy—not the unbridled sunshine of happiness, but the muted, shadowed warmth of joy.

When he pulled his fingers off the keys with a subtle flourish, Joshua opened his eyes and smiled a small, shy smile. He clapped with the tips of his fingers, as if he made any louder sound the room would disappear.

“You know the notes on the piano, right?” Jihoon asked, if only to distract himself from desperately wanting to swiftly lean down and kiss Joshua on the mouth—those hesitantly curved, pink-tinted lips.

Joshua nodded.

“Come up here, I’ll teach you the chorus.”

Jihoon pushed aside his rolling chair and pulled out the folded bench meant for the keyboard. He took a seat on the left and patted beside him, urging Joshua to join him. “It’s not hard, really. Just put your hand here…”

Jihoon helped Joshua’s right hand to the middle octave, letting his own settle an octave up. He quickly ran through the chorus, the abnormally high register releasing a tinny, almost shrill sound. “So it’s a major sixth, and then it climbs down like this,” and Jihoon took residence on the G and showed Joshua the notes slowly. For someone who rarely touched the piano since quitting back in middle school, Joshua was learning quickly, so Jihoon offered to teach him the beginning, too. And as his impromptu student picked up on the melody quickly, Jihoon absently tacked on the thirds to harmonize.

As they reached the last new section, Joshua stumbled a little, unfamiliar with the intervals, and Jihoon resumed teacher-mode. “Here’s your part,” he instructed, quietly singing the tune, fingers deftly climbing the keys. “And here’s where mine joins.” He had intended to play it through at least once for Joshua to follow, but before his left hand could sneak in, his student’s larger, callused hand landed on the keys, following Jihoon’s guiding melody like a child darting into a spinning jump rope. Jihoon, a little surprised, bumped his hand into Joshua’s, and half-mumbled an apology, eyes lifting from the keyboard to meet the other’s.

“Am I doing well?” Joshua asked, eyes smiling.

“Very,” he told him. As they toed down the scale in tandem, Jihoon nudged Joshua’s hand in a playful jostle, relishing the warmth of knuckles meeting knuckles. He climbed up to E and Joshua inched up to C, and they tumbled back down, a mirthful but relaxed push and pull as they ascended and descended. 

“Let’s take it from the top,” Jihoon finally said, and it began all over again. Though at first it was just Jihoon singing, as he was more comfortable multitasking, once they hit the second verse Joshua joined in with his honeyed tones. “My heart will never change,” they sang, softly, together. And Jihoon, sneaking a furtive glance at the lovely, lovely man on his left, suppressed the urge to abandon the piece altogether and simply link fingers with him. This urge was all the more encouraged by the frequent but subtle touches they exchanged while dancing on the keys. As Jihoon bid his fingers twirl a whole step up, Joshua whirled lightly into his, and half a moment later the same thing would happen on the descent to the tonic. 

It felt like flirting, almost. Perhaps like playing a game of footsie under the table, their demeanors purposefully nonchalant, disguising the daring, unseen dalliance. Here Jihoon was, crooning a love song he wrote to the object of his affections, engaging in physical banter as he taught him the very song. Swimming in a lovesick purple, he smiled.

  
  


Jihoon was about to swear off of mobile communication.

He had spent the entire evening texting back and forth with Joshua, who had complained of how boring his class was. Jihoon had been working on a composition project for his own class but, upon spotting the notifications from Joshua, got thoroughly distracted. Maybe he could justify it by calling chatting with his crush gathering inspiration or something. 

It felt a bit like a whirlwind—his cheeks kind of hurt from smiling too widely at Joshua’s witty and unpredictable quips, and all he wanted was to call him and hear his voice. Alas, he valued Joshua’s reputation as a student too much and restrained himself from fulfilling that particular wish.

However, as the hour came to a close, Joshua had abruptly stopped replying. He was probably just packing up and leaving class, Jihoon supposed, but nonetheless he kept a careful eye on his phone just in case it brightened with a notification. He kept this up all while tentatively returning to his guitar and laptop, but no such gratification arrived. Instead, he just turned up the ringer on his phone and slipped it into his pocket so he’d know if it ever came.

Another hour later, and feeling extremely not-sulky, he sighed and put away his equipment, cursing how distracted and jittery he still was. He figured if he wasn’t going to get anything done he should probably just wash up and head to bed, so he picked up his toothbrush and toothpaste and set off to the bathroom.

One minute into scrubbing furiously at his teeth and staring flatly at his reflection in the mirror, a heavy buzz from his phone sent vibrations up his spine, and he let out a surprised yelp, muffled by the toothbrush still in his mouth. Half-terrified and half-thrilled, he fumbled for his phone, clenching his teeth around the head of the toothbrush. To his utter joy, Joshua had finally replied, and he eagerly opened up his messages, only to be shocked.

The senior had sent a selfie, which was not uncommon, but in this particular selfie he was wearing a t-shirt loose around the neck and therefore revealing much skin.  _ Back home safely, sorry for the lateness!  _ he had sent, with a kissy emoji. Jihoon’s jaw went slack; as he stared more and more at the selfie he noticed more and more, like how the short sleeves gave a generous view of Joshua’s heart-thumpingly buff arms, and how Joshua’s eyes seemed to dance in the still image.

The toothbrush tumbled out of his mouth and into the sink with a clatter as Jihoon gaped at his phone. Panicked, he scrambled for the brush while trying to type out a message to Jeonghan along the lines of  _ CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE JOSHUA HONG I NEED HIS DICK IN ME AT THIS VERY MOMENT OR I WILL DIE.  _ He hurriedly rinsed off his brush, wondered briefly if he should try to resume brushing, and finally decided to just cut his losses and spit out the remaining toothpaste in his mouth. His phone, resting on the counter, buzzed horribly again, and Jihoon would have taken his time to check what Jeonghan had said if not for the series of notifications that shook his phone. Now somewhat concerned, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and opened up his messages once again. And then he choked.

> **Joshua Hong** [22:44]
> 
> Oh
> 
> **Joshua Hong** [22:44]
> 
> Well don’t die on me now. How else are you going to get this dick inside you?
> 
> **Joshua Hong** [22:45]
> 
> DID YOU ACTUALLY DIE
> 
> **Joshua Hong** [22:45]
> 
> SHOULD I BE WORRIED. SHOULD I COME OVER
> 
> **Lee Jihoon** [22:45]
> 
> wait nofejdgrdk dont comsejkfshekj
> 
> **Joshua Hong** [22:25]
> 
> Jihoon are you okay do you need me to call emergency services

Jihoon pulled at his own hair in misery. He was going to die. This wasn’t real. Maybe he’d already died and this was the afterlife. Yes. That was it.

He picked up his toothbrush and toothpaste and stumbled back to his room in a blur, trying to sort out his thoughts to no avail. Joshua hadn’t been opposed, exactly, but he was still incredibly mortified. And though he should be rejoicing that Joshua hadn’t reported him for sexual harassment and instead was apparently into it (or just happy to joke about it) he felt completely disconnected from reality. So, naturally, he threw himself into bed and prayed that it was all a terrible dream. But wait—

> **Lee Jihoon** [22:34]
> 
> good night

He set his phone face-down on his dresser and dove headfirst into his pillow, ignoring his roommate’s curious look.

  
  
  


Nothing happened. 

When Jihoon had unwillingly risen from bed and, terrified, poked at his phone to check for notifications, he was relieved (disappointed) to see that there were none. He felt oddly hollow, and confused, and Minghao, sensing his strange mood, left a banana on his desk as he left for his class. Jihoon had peeled it slowly, grimacing at the sticky starchiness under his fingernails, and gulped down the whole fruit in two big bites.

After his own afternoon class, he retreated to the dorm and wondered why now of all times he was dying to text Joshua about the most mundane things. His favorite professor’s girlfriend gave birth to a big-headed baby boy. He saw a squirrel steal a freshman’s flash drive in the quad. On his way home he spotted Junhui and Seokmin in a… passionate embrace behind the music building. Normally, Joshua would have a hearty laugh hearing any of those three things. Today, though… Jihoon is too scared to send a message reaching out first.

He sighed and tossed his phone on his bed, plopping into his desk chair to begin some work. As he waited for his laptop to start up, his fingers tapping impatiently, he glanced out the window and did a double-take as he recognized one of the figures standing outside. There was Jeonghan, leaning nonchalantly against a tree whose branches had just begun to bud. He was talking to a shadowed companion. Jihoon squinted, then jumped back, as if the two could sense a voyeur three floors up.

What could Joshua be doing here? Could he… could he have come to see him? The thought made his heart pound quickly, perhaps a premonition of a grand climax. Maybe Joshua confronting him in his room, bringing up the texts? Maybe… maybe Jihoon spitting out a confession soured by nervousness, and Joshua laughing and swooping him into a one-armed hug, the other hand coming up to brush by Jihoon’s jaw, and then maybe Joshua’s eyes flicking down to his mouth, and Jihoon feeling off-kilter and weak in Joshua’s strong arms, and then Joshua diving in like a bird of prey, claiming his lips and-

He shook his head frantically. What was he thinking?! This was not the time for convoluted fantasies. He could save that one for later… That is, if Joshua doesn’t stamp all over his feelings. He wouldn’t, though. He was too thoughtful, too caring… If anything, he would kindly let him down, explain that they should just stay friends, and Jihoon would nod in embarrassed acceptance, and then they would part, Jihoon left standing awkwardly in his own room like an idiot. Oh God, what was he thinking? This type of anti-fantasizing didn’t help him at all. He rushed back to the window, slowly peered out from behind the wall, then gasped. Joshua and Jeonghan were gone. 

They were probably just chatting and then left. That was it. Jihoon sighed in relief and collapsed onto his bed, eyes studying the bumps on the ceiling before falling shut. A nap… Yes, that sounded good. A nap. He reached for his pillow, had just curled his fingers into the soft fabric, when two prim knocks reached his ears.

“Who is it?” he yelled, internally bemoaning the loss of his nap. Then, before the guest could reply, he realized. “Fuck!”

“Hello to you too,” Joshua said smoothly, pushing the door open and peeking out. “May I come in?”

  
  


So there. Joshua was sitting on Minghao’s bed, legs crossed at the ankle, and Jihoon across from him on his own bed. He’d offered him a drink (all he had was Gatorade) and refreshments (stale pretzels) and, since Joshua had declined both, they were just sitting there. Not looking at each other. Well, maybe Joshua was looking at Jihoon. He was simply too embarrassed to lift his eyes, so he wouldn’t know.

“Can we pretend I never—”

“What happened to the—”

They both shut their mouths abruptly.

“Sorry, you go—”

“Oh, go ahead—”

Again.

Joshua cleared his throat. “What were you saying?”

“No, no, um, nothing. You go.”

“No, you go first.”

Jihoon slapped a hand on his face, feeling overheated. “It wasn’t important. Actually I’ve forgotten what I was saying, so. You go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure!” he blurted out, frustrated. “Just. Um. Yes. You.”

Joshua smiled apologetically. “Okay, if you say so.” He gestured with his chin to Jihoon’s wrist. “You’re only wearing two bracelets, but I made you four. What happened to the other two?”

“Oh, that.” He squirmed. “Um, actually, they’re supposed to—I mean, I lost them! Yeah, I broke them—uh, I mean I lost them.” He tried to nod confidently. “Yup. That.”

“Ah, is that so?” Joshua asked, raising an eyebrow. “So which is it? Did you lose them, or did you break them?”

He averted his eyes. “I lost them.”

He shrugged. “Okay,” he acquiesced. Jihoon let out a breath he’d been unconsciously holding. “By the way, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Jihoon, too relieved to keep his guard up, responded, “Sure, what is it?”

Joshua uncrossed his legs, scooting forward and resting his chin on his palm. “So, I’m looking for, hmm, an accessory.”

“Is some event coming up?” Jihoon inquired, wondering why he would ask him of all people.

“You could say that,” he answered evasively. “Anyway, I just need a sort of good luck charm, you know?”

Jihoon nodded dutifully. Then he scrunched up his face. “Wait, but you’re the one who makes bracelets. Why come to me?”

“That’s true.” Joshua leaned back and eyed him carefully. “Very good observation. I am looking for a Hong bracelet,” he explained, “but it is currently in your possession.”

Jihoon very determinedly did not look at the first drawer in his desk, which was hosting the two not-lost, not-broken bracelets. Instead, he raised his arm. “Ah, like these?”

“Hmm, it’s quite similar,” he replied. “But the design is different. The color… It’s more of a peach color.”

Jihoon gulped.

He continued, “The beads are kind of pearly and there are two nice silver ones, too. Ah, there’s a matching bracelet to it too. You see, I modeled one of them after my own wrist size, conveniently, so I think they would be suitable for this… event.”

Jihoon swallowed hard. “What… what would this event happen to be?”

With a teasing lilt to his voice, he said, “This event is, hm, a proposition of sorts. Asking the guy I like to be my boyfriend. Of course, a very momentous event.”

Jihoon felt faint. Swiping at his forehead weakly, he asked, “And who is this guy? Could I get, um, initials?”

“His last name starts with L and his first name starts with J. Oh, you know him, too. I trust it’s not too hard to figure out.”

His pillow… was so close… Would it be so bad if he snatched it up and screamed right into it? It was hard enough to remain sitting upright, facing Joshua, whose eyes looked so mischievous and delighted.

“Could it be…” he racked his brains in desperation, “perhaps Lee Jinki? Lee Jinhyuk?”

Joshua shook his head, amused. “Nope. Would you like a hint?”

Jihoon, pupils trembling, nodded.

“Hmm,” he voiced, standing up, eyes not leaving Jihoon’s. “How about a visual hint? Like this?” And in one fell swoop, he ducked down to Jihoon’s sitting level, face so rapidly closing the distance that he could barely process what was happening. With Joshua’s right hand anchored on the bed and his left climbing up to cradle Jihoon’s jaw, he froze, eyes quivering as they fixed on Joshua’s pretty nose, a single centimeter away from his own. “Any new guesses?” Joshua breathed, and the thought that he was probably inhaling Joshua’s exhale twisted around his brain, cutting off his ability to think properly. 

“Me, I’m,” he stammered out, and—

“Jihoon,” Joshua sighed, and nosed forward, the tips of their noses brushing before their lips.

The heat that enveloped his mouth left his own name echoing blankly in his mind, accompanied by a countermelody of  _ Joshua Joshua Joshua _ , and  _ Joshua is kissing me,  _ and  _ what the actual fuck I’m kissing Joshua Hong and I think he likes me and I really, really, really like him. _ Just as that thought processed, the other pulled away and looked down at him carefully, mumbling a soft “that okay?”, only to dive back down upon getting a tremulous nod from Jihoon.

Kissing. So that was a thing. And it was a thing Joshua was very good at, evident by the easy, yet somewhat fervent pace. Jihoon let himself be maneuvered back upon his bed, and nearly choked on (their shared) spit as Joshua straddled him, never breaking the kiss except for short gulps of air. Joshua’s hands were so  _ big,  _ and when his fingers tripped delicately over his chest, his abdomen, his hips, he struggled to function. His senses simply screamed at him: sheets rucked under legs, heat burning at the small of his back, Shua’s grapefruit scent piquant and irresistible.

  
  


“Congratulations, you’ve achieved your lifelong goal. Give it a break, will you?” complained Jeonghan, frowning at the newly minted couple.

Jihoon twisted around and stuck out his tongue. “Don’t be bitter just because Soonyoung won’t go on a date with you,” he retorted before turning back around and pressing one last kiss to Joshua’s reddened lips. He then slid off of his lap and hopped back onto his desk chair, spinning around one rotation before sighing and righting himself to resume his work.

Joshua chuckled and stretched out on Jihoon’s bed. “Jeonghannie, if you want some pro tips on getting with your crush, you can always ask us, a successful couple.”

“Never!” Jeonghan said hotly, huffing. “If it weren’t for me, you two wouldn’t have gotten together anyway. So really you should be kneeling at my feet and doing whatever I ask you to do.”

Joshua shrugged. “Was the bottle of wine not enough?”

“No,” he said. “Continue plying me with alcohol and maybe I will lower my demands, peasant.”

At that moment, there was a loud “knock knock” yelled from outside, and the door swung open, revealing a curious Soonyoung, whose hair was mussed so awfully Jihoon wondered if something was living in it. “Are we discussing a large amount of alcohol that I might partake in on this fine evening?” he chirped, eyes bright. “Oh! Joshua, you’re here again. That’s perfect. I was going to ask you something.”

Jihoon glanced at Jeonghan, who had shifted further back onto Minghao’s bed and was openly staring at Soonyoung but getting no response. “Um, no alcohol for you, Soonyoung,” Jihoon told him, pressing his lips together. “I don’t even wanna think about you drinking again. That was a nightmare.”

Joshua nodded in agreement, laughing quietly. He had his textbook open beside him but hadn’t spared it a glance for over half an hour. Honestly, Jihoon had the feeling that he was a bad influence on his boyfriend, but who cared. They still submitted their assignments on time and everything, so he figured they were alright for the time being.

“What did you come here for, again?” Jeonghan finally asked.

Soonyoung looked at him, falling quiet for a second while his brain presumably whirred away. “Right, what am I here for…”

“You had a question for me?” Joshua prompted, mercifully sparing Jeonghan from bearing Soonyoung’s absent gaze.

“Oh!” Soonyoung sidled onto the bed beside Joshua. “Joshy, some of my friends and I were wondering if you wanted to start up the bracelet gig again, ‘cause beaded bracelets are getting so trendy nowadays and we don’t have any artistic inclinations.”

“That’s a lie,” Jeonghan scoffed under his breath. “You’re literally a dance major.”

“We don’t know how colors work,” Soonyoung revised easily, without meeting Jeonghan’s eyes. “So? Any interest?”

Jihoon answered first. “No.”

“I don’t recall asking you, Jihoon,” he said good-humoredly. “Are you guys doing that couple thing where you share thoughts?”

Joshua laughed. “No, but Jihoon always somehow knows what I’m going to say anyway.”

“Aw, so no bracelets? Why?”

“Because Jihoon doesn’t like it when other people wear my bracelets,” Joshua said cheerfully, unaware of (or perhaps just plainly ignoring) Jihoon grimacing in embarrassment.

“Oho, is Jihoonie here a possessive boyfriend?” Soonyoung crowed gleefully, turning on Jihoon with a broad grin. 

He cringed. “Not really…”

“A little,” Joshua interrupted. “But it’s cute, isn’t it? And I’m kind of over mass-producing bracelets, anyway.”

Jihoon nodded matter-of-factly. “Yeah,” he followed up. “Tell your friend Hong bracelets are specially hand-crafted for only one customer from now on.”

Soonyoung laughed and stood up, seeing himself out of the room. “Oh, I will. Bye, Jihoon, Joshua… Jeonghan. See you.” He disappeared with a final cheeky wave.

Jeonghan let out a long groan, snatching Minghao’s pillow and giving it a few punches that left it misshapen and bulging. 

“You alright, Jeonghannie?” Joshua asked, mildly concerned, though not surprised.

He hugged the battered pillow to his chest, his long bangs flopping into his eyes. Blowing a stubborn strand out of his vision, he shrugged. “I’m perfectly fine, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jihoon made eye contact with Joshua, exchanging telling looks:

_ He’s not perfectly fine. _

_ I know, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. _

_ Should we just leave it alone? _

“I’m gonna get a Gatorade,” Joshua announced, lifting himself from the bed and offering a hand to Jeonghan. “Wanna come with?”

“No, I think I’ll just head on home,” Jeonghan declined, pasting on a smile. “No need to worry about me, guys. I just need some sleep.”

“If you say so,” Joshua acquiesced. “Jihoon?”

He scratched his head. “Huh?”

“I’ll just walk Jeonghan out and come back, ‘kay?”

Jihoon grunted in acknowledgement. “Come back quickly,” he said absently.

Joshua smiled, nose scrunching up. “Of course, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3  
> 


End file.
